Peek into the book:
May 13, 2005- Friday the 13th
“Damn, baby. You know them titties looking mighty good bouncing up and down in that tight ass shirt.” Spliff spat out of breath with his heavy Trinidadian accent and reaching out his hand to her.
“Nigga, stay focused.” Goddess retorted as she grabbed his hand struggling to hold on to the black duffle bag strapped to her back.
Danger lurked around every corner as Spliff and Goddess fled across the street to the trap house on King Street. They ran straight in the door and locked it tight, lucky that the crack heads didn't give a shit about locking their doors for safety. The hot Atlanta climate was so dry that it felt like a sauna in there as the prominent stench of foul ass and blown coke filled the night air.
They headed for a back room and could hear the sirens in the distance as they ducked on the side of the
window carefully peeking out to gain sight of the peoples. The crack heads loitering in the dark crevices of the room began moaning uncontrollably and yelling obscenities while fidgeting with their tattered garments as if they itched badly. Spliff tried to calm them by waving his hands wildly, whispering angrily hoping that would quiet them.
“Shut the fuck up!”
But it was no use. They just grew louder and angrier. They didn’t want the fugitives in their domain crowding their space and bringing trouble. Goddess shook her head at Spliff snickering silently covering her smile with her hands. She waved for his attention urging him to leave them alone before tried to retaliate. She then looked slightly out the window checking for any signs of the cops.
“I think they’re gone.” She whispered as her back pressed against the wall.
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